A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic Part 5

_Love_. Tell her I'm coming.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] But before I go, one gla.s.s of nectar to drink her health. [_To_ BERINTHIA.]

_Ber_. Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens!

_Love_. [_Kissing her_.] In matters of love, a woman's oath is no more to be minded than a man's. [_Exit.]

Ber_. Um!

_Enter_ COLONEL TOWNLY.

_Col. Town_. [_Aside_.] So? what's here--Berinthia and Loveless--and in such close conversation!--I cannot now wonder at her indifference in excusing herself to me!--O rare woman!--Well then, let Loveless look to his wife, 'twill be but the retort courteous on both sides.--[_Aloud_.] Your servant, madam; I need not ask you how you do, you have got so good a colour.

_Ber_. No better than I used to have, I suppose.

_Col. Town_. A little more blood in your cheeks.

_Ber_. I have been walking!

_Col. Town_. Is that all? Pray was it Mr. Loveless went from here just now?

_Ber_. O yes--he has been walking with me.

_Col. Town_. He has!

_Ber_. Upon my word I think he is a very agreeable man; and there is certainly something particularly insinuating in his address.

_Col. Town_. [_Aside_.] So, so! she hasn't even the modesty to dissemble! [_Aloud_.] Pray, madam, may I, without impertinence, trouble you with a few serious questions?

_Ber_. As many as you please; but pray let them be as little serious as possible.

_Col. Town_. Is it not near two years since I have presumed to address you?

_Ber_. I don't know exactly--but it has been a tedious long time.

_Col. Town._ Have I not, during that period, had every reason to believe that my a.s.siduities were far from being unacceptable?

_Ber._ Why, to do you justice, you have been extremely troublesome--and I confess I have been more civil to you than you deserved.

_Col. Town._ Did I not come to this place at your express desire, and for no purpose but the honour of meeting you?--and after waiting a month in disappointment, have you condescended to explain, or in the slightest way apologise for, your conduct?

_Ber._ O heavens! apologise for my conduct!--apologise to you! O you barbarian! But pray now, my good serious colonel, have you anything more to add?

_Col. Town._ Nothing, madam, but that after such behaviour I am less surprised at what I saw just now; it is not very wonderful that the woman who can trifle with the delicate addresses of an honourable lover should be found coquetting with the husband of her friend.

_Ber._ Very true: no more wonderful than it was for this honourable lover to divert himself in the absence of this coquette, with endeavouring to seduce his friend's wife! O colonel, colonel, don't talk of honour or your friend, for Heaven's sake!

_Col. Town_. [_Aside.]_ 'Sdeath! how came she to suspect this!--[_Aloud._] Really, madam, I don't understand you.

_Ber._ Nay, nay, you saw I did not pretend to misunderstand you.--But here comes the lady; perhaps you would be glad to be left with her for an explanation.

_Col. Town._ O madam, this recrimination is a poor resource; and to convince you how much you are mistaken, I beg leave to decline the happiness you propose me.--Madam, your servant.

_Enter_ AMANDA. COLONEL TOWNLY _whispers_ AMANDA, _and exit_.

_Ber. [Aside._] He carries it off well, however; upon my word, very well! How tenderly they part!--[_Aloud_] So, cousin; I hope you have not been chiding your admirer for being with me? I a.s.sure you we have been talking of you.

_Aman_. Fy, Berinthia!--my admirer! will you never learn to talk in earnest of anything?

_Ber_. Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you matter of fact.

_Aman_. I'm sure there's so much jest and earnest in what you say to me on this subject, I scarce know how to take it. I have just parted with Mr. Loveless; perhaps it is fancy, but I think there is an alteration in his manner which alarms me.

_Ber_. And so you are jealous; is that all?

_Aman_. That all! is jealousy, then, nothing?

_Ber_. It should be nothing, if I were in your case.

_Aman_. Why, what would you do?

_Ber_. I'd cure myself.

_Aman_. How?

_Ber_. Care as little for my husband as he did for me. Look you, Amanda, you may build castles in the air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin, and lean, and pale, and ugly, if you please; but I tell you, no man worth having is true to his wife, or ever was, or ever will be so.

_Aman_. Do you then really think he's false to me? for I did not suspect him.

_Ber_. Think so? I am sure of it.

_Aman_. You are sure on't?

_Ber_. Positively--he fell in love at the play.

_Aman_. Right--the very same. But who could have told you this?

_Ber_. Um!--Oh, Townly! I suppose your husband has made him his confidant.

_Aman_. O base Loveless! And what did Townly say on't?

_Ber. [Aside_.] So, so! why should she ask that?-- [_Aloud_.] Say! why he abused Loveless extremely, and said all the tender things of you in the world.

_Aman_. Did he?--Oh! my heart!--I'm very ill--dear Berinthia, don't leave me a moment. [_Exeunt_.]

SCENE III.--_Outside of_ SIR TUNRELLY CLUMSY'S _House_.

_Enter_ TOM FAs.h.i.+ON _and_ LORY.

_Fash_. So here's our inheritance, Lory, if we can but get into possession. But methinks the seat of our family looks like Noah's ark, as if the chief part on't were designed for the fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field.

_Lory._ Pray, sir, don't let your head run upon the orders of building here: get but the heiress, let the devil take the house.

_Fash._ Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress! I say.--But come, we have no time to squander; knock at the door.-- [LORY _knocks two or three times at the gate._] What the devil! have they got no ears in this house?--Knock harder.

_Lory._ Egad, sir, this will prove some enchanted castle; we shall have the giant come out by-and-by, with his club, and beat our brains out. [_Knocks again._]

_Fash._ Hush, they come.

_Ser. [Within.]_ Who is there?

_Lory._ Open the door and see: is that your country breeding?

_Ser._ Ay, but two words to that bargain.--Tummus, is the blunderbuss primed?

_Fash._ Ouns! give 'em good words, Lory,--or we shall be shot here a fortune catching.

_Lory._ Egad, sir, I think you're in the right on't.--Ho!

Mr. What-d'ye-call-'um, will you please to let us in? or are we to be left to grow like willows by your moat side?

SERVANT _appears at the window with a blunderbuss._ _Ser._ Well naw, what's ya're business?

_Fash._ Nothing, sir, but to wait upon Sir Tunbelly, with your leave.

_Ser._ To weat upon Sir Tunbelly! why, you'll find that's just as Sir Tunbelly pleases.

_Fash._ But will you do me the favour, sir, to know whether Sir Tunbelly pleases or not?

_Ser._ Why, look you, d'ye see, with good words much may be done. Ralph, go thy ways, and ask Sir Tunbelly if he pleases to be waited upon--and dost hear, call to nurse, that she may lock up Miss Hoyden before the gates open.

_Fash._ D'ye hear, that, Lory?

_Enter SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY, with SERVANTS, armed with guns, clubs, pitchforks, &c_.

_Lory_. Oh! [_Runs behind his master_.] O Lord! O Lord!

Lord! we are both dead men!

_Fash_. Fool! thy fear will, ruin us. [_Aside to LORY_.]

_Lory_. My fear, sir? 'sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing.-- [_Aside_.] Would I were well up to the chin in a horse-pond!

_Sir Tun_. Who is it here hath any business with me?

_Fash_. Sir, 'tis I, if your name be Sir Tunbelly Clumsy.

_Sir Tun_. Sir, my name is Sir Tunbelly Clumsy, whether you have any business with me or not.--So you see I am not ashamed of my name, nor my face either.

_Fash_. Sir, you have no cause that I know of.

_Sir Tun_. Sir, if you have no cause either, I desire to know who you are; for, till I know your name, I shan't ask you to come into my house: and when I do know your name,'tis six to four I don't ask you then.

_Fash_. Sir, I hope you'll find this letter an authentic pa.s.sport. [_Gives him a letter_.]

_Sir Tun_. Cod's my life, from Mrs. Coupler!--I ask your lords.h.i.+p's pardon ten thousand times.--[_To a SERVANT_.]

Here, run in a-doors quickly; get a Scotch coal fire in the parlour, set all the Turkey work chairs in their places, get the bra.s.s candlesticks out, and be sure stick the socket full of laurel--run!--[_Turns to TOM FAs.h.i.+ON_.]--My lord, I ask your lords.h.i.+p's pardon.--[_To SERVANT_.] And, do you hear, run away to nurse; bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again.--[_Exit SERVANT_.] I hope your honour will excuse the disorder of my family. We are not used to receive men of your lords.h.i.+p's great quality every day. Pray, where are your coaches and servants, my lord?

_Fash_. Sir, that I might give you and your daughter a proof how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left my equipage to follow me, and came away post with only one servant.

_Sir Tun_. Your lords.h.i.+p does me too much honour--it was exposing your person to too much fatigue and danger, I protest it was: but my daughter shall endeavour to make you what amends she can: and, though I say it that should not say it, Hoyden has charms.

_Fash_. Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to her; common fame has done her justice.

_Sir Tun_. My lord, I am common fame's very grateful, humble servant. My lord, my girl's young--Hoyden is young, my lord: but this I must say for her, what she wants in art she has in breeding; and what's wanting in her age, is made good in her const.i.tution.--So pray, my lord, walk in; pray, my lord, walk in.

_Fash_. Sir, I wait upon you. [_Exeunt_.]

SCENE IV.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House_.

MISS HOYDEN _discovered alone_.

_Miss Hoyd_. Sure, n.o.body was ever used as I am! I know well enough what other girls do, for all they think to make a fool o'

me. It's well I have a husband a-coming, or ecod I'd marry the baker, I would so. n.o.body can knock at the gate, but presently I must be locked up; and here's the young greyhound can run loose about the house all the day, so she can.--'Tis very well!

_Nurse_. [_Without opening the door_.] Miss Hoyden!

miss, miss, miss! Miss Hoyden!

_Enter_ NURSE.

_Miss Hoyd_. Well, what do you make such a noise for, eh?

What do you din a body's ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?

_Nurse_. What do I din your ears for? Here's one come will din your ears for you.

_Miss Hoyd_. What care I who's come? I care not a fig who comes, or who goes, so long as I must be locked up like the ale-cellar.

_Nurse_. That, miss, is for fear you should be drank before you are ripe.

_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, don't trouble your head about that; I'm as ripe as you, though not so mellow.

_Nurse_. Very well! Now I have a good mind to lock you up again, and not let you see my lord to-night.